Wanna Get Out of Here?
by FluentSarcasm
Summary: I received an Olitz "Fake Relationship AU" prompt on Tumblr and this was the result - 883 words of fluffy Olitz goodness
1. Chapter 1

**WANNA GET OUT OF HERE? - OLITZ FAKE RELATIONSHIP AU (1/1) | A/N: Before any more of ya'll message me, I AM STILL WORKING ON ONCE UPON A TIME IN VERMONT** **It's a slow process but I have not given up on that story, I am still working on it, I will update ASAP. But I received a quick Olitz "Fake Relationship AU" prompt on Tumblr – and this was the result - 883 words of fluffy Olitz goodness.**

His mouth went dry when he saw her and he momentarily forgot he was supposed to be acting.

He didn't need to pretend.

She was gorgeous.

When she smiled up at him and slipped her arm through his, he temporarily forgot his own name; the sight of her curves in that skintight white dress too tantalizing too ignore. Somewhere in the back of his mind he registered the words – stuttered and awkward – that stumbled out of his mouth, "Liv, y-you're-"

"I know," she giggled, looking up at him with huge brown eyes twinkling with mirth, her smug thousand watt smile flawless enough to make him want to get down on his knees and beg for mercy.

The truth was he'd been in love with her probably since the moment he laid eyes on her that first semester at Harvard Law and though they ran in the same social circles and flirted endlessly with one another through the years, nothing more had ever happened, something or someone always got in the way.

And now she was dragging him to some cocktail party where her ex would be with the new wife he had cheated on her with and she'd begged him to pretend to be her super hot, tall white boyfriend – "because that will really piss Edison off."

Ever resourceful and eager to spend as much time with her as he could (until he got the nerve to _just tell her how you feel already_ ), even under the pretense of a false relationship, Fitzgerald Grant jumped at the chance to pretend to be Olivia Pope's boyfriend.

Because he was determined to make that fantasy a reality.

And he was going to commit to the role.

She introduced him to everyone as "My boyfriend, Fitz," even to their mutual friends who knew better, and she tucked herself close to his side and led him by the hand around the bar. The scent and feel of her beside him nearly drove him mad with longing and made him ache to the very marrow of his bones for her.

His arm was slung around her waist rather possessively, palm slid low and molded to the curve of her hip, and he was so grateful for the pretense that allowed him to _finally_ touch her this way.

"He's here," she whispered at some point, taking a long gulp of the red wine in her glass that Fitz knew was better enjoyed slowly and with a bar of fine Swiss chocolate.

Any wariness he might have felt was immediately quashed when he saw the man in question – he was tall, and somewhat handsome, but there was something so plainly _dull_ about the man and something so _cliché_ about the big boobed blond bombshell on his arm – that all of Fitz's anxieties instantly vanished.

The man – _Edison_ was his name, and if he himself wasn't a Fitzgerald, he'd make fun of the pretension of the man's parents when naming him – made the rounds with the new wife on his arm, slowly inching their way toward the corner where he and Liv stood and Fitz felt her vibrating nervously beside him.

Why she gave a shit what this bland suit thought of her at all, Fitz could hardly understand – the man clearly didn't deserve her, didn't get her, didn't appreciate her and her beauty and intelligence and –

Something had to be done.

"Relax," he whispered to her, leaning down into her space until she tilted her head to look up at him.

Their gazes locked and time stood still. Those huge brown eyes fixed on his, swimming with so many emotions he didn't know which to catch and focus on. He held his breath, afraid to blink and break the connection, unable to form any coherent thought beyond the sudden need to touch – and taste her.

She must have seen the thought or question in his eyes because she nodded, rather imperceptibly, and then suddenly the distance was closed between them, lips meeting in a small, chaste kiss.

Her full lips were plump with gloss and her breath sweet with wine and Fitz groaned, unable to help himself, the subsequent sound she made in her throat utterly destroying him.

The hand on her hip tightened and she turned fully into his embrace, her body flush against his as his other hand danced idly up her arm to trace her jaw. He tilted his head, cupped her cheek and deepened the kiss, devouring her.

She whimpered, alighting to the tips of her toes to wrap her arms around his neck and kiss him back, lips parting to eagerly accept his tongue, laving and slurping it expertly with her own as they began to make out in the middle of the bar like a couple of teenagers.

He had no idea how long they kissed – could have been minutes or days – when she finally leaned back far enough to rest her forehead on his shoulder, panting breathlessly as her hands tightened around his biceps for balance.

"Wow," she whispered, tilting her face up to look at him. Her lips were swollen from his kisses, eyes blown wide with lust.

"Wanna get out of here?" he heard himself ask, the bass in his voice deeper than usual.

She grinned wolfishly as she nodded. "Yeah."


	2. Chapter 2

**WANNA GET OUT OF HERE? – Olitz Fake Relationship AU. A/N: I had no intention of continuing this prompt but I'm on vacation and this headcanon came to me out of nowhere and I had to write it down before I lost the picture in my head. I might revisit this 'verse again, because I like this Olitz. :-D**

They lay naked and breathless sprawled across her bed and he feels like he had the life fucked right out of him when he rolls his head on the pillow to stare at her.

The moonlight flickered in through silky white curtains and cast silver shadows over her glossy brown skin. Dark brown nipples puckered tight and glistened after a long night of thorough worship from his greedy mouth and hands.

The arm flung back over her face obscured her big brown eyes from his inquisitive gaze but he could tell by the steady rise and fall of those glorious breasts that she wasn't sleeping, only thinking.

They'd just spent the last three hours fucking one another into oblivion and he really hoped that she wasn't regretting it. He'd loved her for what felt like forever and finally _having_ her – thoroughly, more than once – was truly a dream come true. She was the best he'd ever had and he'd never struggled for female companionship before (well, except for hers – until tonight).

Fitz rolled himself over with a groan,; his sweat-slicked skin slowly peeling off of wrinkled 800-thread count sheets, muscles aching with the reminder of just how thoroughly they'd destroyed one another.

Liv remained motionless beside him, continuing to hide under the safety of her forearm, even when he turned on his side to face her.

He was patient and content with the freedom to simply study her so openly. Which he did – from the tip of her head, thick hair wild and messy; over her flawless (but unfortunately obscured) face; down that long neck to the perky dark chocolate-colored tips of her breasts. The flat slope of her belly gave way to the smooth, damp delta between her thighs, his cock twitching with the memory of how tight her wet quim had felt around it. His mouth watered as he perused the long toned legs that had just been wrapped high and tight about his torso and he smirked at the bright red tips of toes he know had curled in ecstasy more than once since they'd walked through her door.

 _Fuck_ , she was gorgeous.

 _Perfect_ – as if sculpted by angels, or some other embarrassingly trite cliché that couldn't possibly ever do her perfection justice. He was often struck dumb by the magnitude of her intelligence and beauty and even now was astonished at his ability to even form coherent thoughts after the backbreaking orgasm he'd just had.

He loved her, thoroughly and completely, and just moments after he'd finished _finally_ having her, he was desperate for her all over again.

Her arm suddenly slid free of her face and those doe eyes were set on his.

His heart began to race and while he was embarrassed by how anxious he was for her to speak, he needed to know what she was thinking.

"I didn't _really_ need you to be my fake boyfriend," she whispered with a voice hoarse from what he hoped were all the times she'd cried his name. 

That had _not_ at all been what he'd been expecting. "Come again?"

She smirked and he rolled his eyes over his choice of words – unintentional for sure, but a Freudian slip nonetheless because he was _quite_ hopeful that they would _both_ be coming again very soon.

"Edison. I've run into him a lot over the last few months and it's been no problem. So I didn't need you to pretend to be my boyfriend this time, I just..." 

"So why did you ask me to?"

She gave him a pointed look. "Come on," she said, as it if were obvious. "You know why."

He was beginning to have an idea but he wanted her to say it. After he'd been pining for her for _years_ , he wasn't going to let her get away with a passive aggressive confession that she'd felt the same all along. He'd been going through _hell_ all this time – and all for no reason. He wanted to torture her as she'd been torturing him – at least just a little bit. For his ego's sake, he needed her to spell it out. "So tell me."

She rolled her eyes, sighing dramatically as she stretched like a cat; tits jiggling so enticingly he could barely resist the urge to slurp one into his mouth until she made those little mewling sounds that drove him crazy. "You're going to make me say it, aren't you?" 

"Have we ever made things easy for one another, Livvie? Why start now?" The knowledge that she felt the same way – and the memory of how her body had responded so readily to his – gave him even _more_ courage and confidence than he'd ever known himself capable of. 

"I didn't know how else to ask you out."

Fitz had to bite back a grin. Olivia Pope – the brave, ball-busting dynamo who had captivated him since law school; the confident, tough-as-nails third year associate who could make most senior partners cry with just one withering glance – had been scared to ask him out. He was certain that he'd ever been this happy. "So you decided we should _pretend_ to date instead?"

She smiled sheepishly. "A completely uncharacteristic cliché, I know."

"You could have just asked me out on a _real_ date, Liv."

"Yeah, well, I know that _now_ , after you kissed me – but I didn't _then_."

They stared silently at one another from either side of the same pillow and Fitz longed for her so much he physically ached from head to cock to toe.

"So what happens now?" He asked for lack – or fear – of saying anything else. He knew Liv well enough to know that it was best to let her set the pace.

She cast a pointed glance down at the rather dire situation between his thighs. "Well, first I need you to fuck me again with that big delicious thing right there … and then in the morning – maybe take me out for breakfast?"

Rolling on top of her, Fitz dragged his pulsating cock through her slick folds, teasing her clit with the tip of his swollen flesh until she was shaking and writing beneath him. He felt giddy with lust and excitement when he finally sank his throbbing length deep inside her and she crossed her ankles around his waist, rocking up into him as she began to ride him from below.

Several long moments of uncoordinated, incoherent rutting followed before he was capable of reply, murmuring into the sweet tasting mouth that opened to accept his tongue, "It's a date."


End file.
